Butter Pecan Ice Cream
by SilverYoukai
Summary: This is just odd. Voldemort really needs smarter minions... How dare they bring him strawberry ice cream when he clearly asked for butter pecan? Humor. One shot.


Outtakes: take two DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything! I have no money! Please don't sue me!  
  
Warning: If Harry Potter was mine, it wouldn't be a children's book, capish?  
  
Author's note: Yeah, I have no idea what the hell I was on when I wrote this... Does anyone want more? Does anyone want slashy stuff to go into it? Maybe coming out of the closet puns... I dunno... review please...  
  
Voldemort glared at his evil minions. All he wanted was a damn pint of butter-pecan ice cream. Did he get any? Noooooo. You would think being an Evil Dark Lord would get you some service.  
  
"Wormtail!"  
  
"Yes master? What can my humble self do for you, oh great Lord of Nightmares who rules every thing in his sight and that all creatures must bow to and..."  
  
"Yes, yes, that's enough, Wormtail." He waved his hand in dismissal. "I want you to run to the grocery store for me. I want peanut butter, jello, celery, and a large container of butter-pecan ice cream."  
  
A Death Eater looked up. "We're out of doughnuts."  
  
"Ooh, get the cream filled kind! I'm tired of glazed chocolate, Avery"  
  
"Dammit! You always choose the doughnuts! I'm an evil minion too! I say we get the ones with sprinkles this time!"  
  
Voldemort held his head in his hands. Idiots. Why was it so hard to find intelligent minions these days? Granted, he had killed most of them off for trying to plot against him but still. In desperation he turned to his most sinister follower.  
  
"Lucius, please deal with this."  
  
The blonde man looked up from his game of Go Fish.  
  
"We are getting powdered sugar. And I need a new tub of extra-strength gold n' shiny hair gel." He glared at Crabbe and Goyle who were currently trying to look at his cards. "Damn you!" He began hitting them with his wand.  
  
Voldemort clutched at his head and groaned.  
  
Voldemort looked at his minion. "You brought the supplies?"  
  
"Yes master, Great Terror of the..."  
  
"That's enough, Wormtail." It seemed like the day was finally beginning to look up, thank god. Happily, he reached into the bag. "Color changing jello in grape, good, good, marshmallow cream, chocolate moose, whip cream, honey... Hmmm, strange list of things for my death eaters to buy, they almost remind me of something... leather belt, handcuffs, strawberries, HANDCUFFS?!?"  
  
Wormtail shrugged. "Lucius requested them, he said that he was having problems keeping the people on the hit list under control at home when he was questioning them."  
  
Voldemort turned green. He knew that he had never told Lucius to bring anyone on his hit list home. Urg, mental picture.  
  
"Just tell me where my ice cream is."  
  
Wormtail fished around in the bag for a moment. Mmmm, I a second I will finally have you my sweet. Sweet. Hehe. Just one more minute and he would be biting down on the cold delicious...  
  
"Here it is!" Wormtail triumphantly hoisted up the container of ice cream.  
  
"Thank Slytherin! Finally.." He trailed off, staring at the label. "STRAWBERRY! I HATE STRAWBERRY! I TELL YOU TO DO ONE SIMPLE THING, JUST ONE THING, AND YOU BRING ME STRAWBERRY!"  
  
"I'm sorry Master, the butter-pecan wasn't on sale so I thought..."  
  
"I don't pay you to think! I pay you to obey!"  
  
"Actually you don't pay me at all."  
  
Avery looked up from the game of Bingo. "He did give us the Death Eater Brand Robes. I always thought they were rather stylish, too. Black is always in."  
  
"That's it!" He Who Desperately Needed Smarter Minions shrieked. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!" ************************  
  
He Who Really Needs a Vacation sat at the head of the room, giving everyone in sight the evil eye. After the ice cream debacle the week before the other death eaters were being very careful to avoid their lord's displeasure. Why, it had been three days since he had had to preside over a game of twister! No one else was ever willing to spin.  
  
There had been that incident in the hallway yesterday, though. He had caught Lucius practicing the evil eye in the hallway mirror. Everyone knew that only the Dark Lord was allowed to do the evil eye. As such Lucius was in strict violation of death eater protocol and was punished accordingly. However, after several hours watching Lucius cook pancakes in the punishment "Kick the Cook" apron Voldemort was ready to take a hiatus in Tahiti.  
  
He really needed new punishments. But that's what you get when you delegate the writing of the Death Eater handbook to Crabbe and Goyle. He still didn't know why they had made it a rule that only boiled cheeses could be served on Wednesdays though. Damn fools. He hated boiled cheese. But back to the real problem. Snape was late by nearly five minutes. He still was begging to be allowed to join again. Traitors, can't live with them, wouldn't be living without them.  
  
Severus Snape strode into the room, long black robes flapping dramatically in the breeze.  
  
"Wormtail! Put down the damn fan!"  
  
"Sorry, Master."  
  
"My Lord." Snape went down to one knee in front of him, giving Voldemort an excellent view of his greasy black hair. If he was just a little shorter Voldemort would just be able to use him as a footrest. He needed a higher chair.  
  
"Yes, Severus? I hear you wanted to speak to me."  
  
"Of course I want to speak to you. Why else would I be on one knee, totally ruining the fabric, and sucking up to your great darkness?"  
  
Voldemort glared.  
  
"These robes aren't cheap you know! Do you know how much designer costs these days? I waited for three weeks for them to be delivered just so I could see you while looking my best and this is the kind of appreciation you show me! Why I could..."  
  
"ENOUGH! Just tell me why you wanted to talk to me ok."  
  
"I wanted to open a designer Death Eater Brand Robes clothing store. You are sitting on a gold mine, Lord. To reserve such style for only your evil minions would be criminal! With your support I propose that DEBRs become the latest hit, sweeping the fashion world off its feet!"  
  
Voldemort mused on the man babbling before him. As he mused, he reflected that very few people mused effectively and that really he was quite lucky to have such a skill.  
  
Would the man never cease talking? Now he was going on about Evil Overlord colored contacts and effective marketing strategies. By damn, he might be a psychotic overlord of evil and all that feasts in mildewy darkness but even he had some standards. The man spoke of telemarketing like it was nothing! Hmmm. Note to self: Consider possible use of telemarketing in plan to kill arch nemesis Harry Potter.  
  
"So you see, pink pound cake really is superior to banana muffins." He Who Really Needs a Shampoo wrapped up his speech.  
  
Voldemort nodded rapidly as if he had been paying attention to the entire speech. "Make it so. Wormtail, take a message to have it done by Friday." Really, sometimes it was good to be Overlord. Whatever it was would be completed by Friday and he would never have to think about it again. But why was everyone looking at him so funny?  
  
****************************  
  
"WORMTAIL!" Voldemort's voice reached the upper range of human hearing. "WHAT THE HELL IS EVERYONE WEARING?!?"  
  
"Master, these are the new robes ordered by Severus to advertise the new style. Death Eater Brand robes are sweeping the wizarding world off its feet!" Wormtail's voice was full of pride.  
  
Voldemort frowned. "These are our new robes?"  
  
His minion bobbed his head. "Of course, we were skeptical in the beginning, really there was a lot of talk. But now everyone sees your great wisdom. We know that no one could have anticipated this success but one of your high power!"  
  
Voldemort looked around in dismay. The Death Eaters were sitting in a circle drinking. In itself, this was not an unusual but the fluid they were consuming was thick and purple.  
  
"Wormtail, what is it that they are drinking?"  
  
"Smoothies, sir."  
  
"SMOOTHIES?"  
  
"They are extremely healthy, and vitamins are important for the 'mature' Death Eater. They keep you slim too!" Wormtail smoothed the front of his robes proudly, hoping his Master would notice the smaller size he now fit into.  
  
What was his evil empire coming to? Voldemort wondered hopelessly. He could remember a time when killing muggles was his only concern. Now, everything had gone to hell. The robes were terrible. The big recycling sign on the back was bad, the slogan "Recycle or I will turn you into Mulch" was worse. On top of that, everyone was wearing a pink ribbon on the front of their new robes.  
  
"Why the pink ribbon?" He felt like nothing would surprise him now.  
  
"Breast cancer awareness month."  
  
"Oh, Lord."  
  
"It's really in to be socially conscious these days."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Huh?" Wormtail said intelligently.  
  
"Never mind. What the hell is with the glass jars all over my mansion?"  
  
"It's a collection drive for the preservation society, master,"  
  
//Thank god *something* is still normal,// Voldemort sighed. The pureblood preservation society had always been supported by his group.  
  
"Fuzzy kangaroos are in danger of being extinct in several countries. It would be criminal not to help them."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"Well, it is important to be environmentally conscious too."  
  
Voldemort methodically began tapping a rhythm on his chair arm with his forehead.  
  
"Do you need anything?" Wormtail asked in a concerned voice.  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Really?" His minion sounded skeptical.  
  
"I'm serious."  
  
"No, that's Sirius." Wormtail pointed at Black, who was tanning by the swimming pool.  
  
"What the hell is he doing here?!?" Voldemort screeched.  
  
Wormtail shrugged. "His pool is being cleaned."  
  
"Oh my God. I really, really need smarter minions."  
  
"Hey! I'm smart!"  
  
"Right, and I'm Mary, Queen of Scotts."  
  
Wormtail looked at him in concern. It was unlike his master to be so confused as to his identity, but Dark Lords did get to decide their own names, he supposed.  
  
"It's alright, Mary" he soothed "whatever you say."  
  
"CRUCIO!" 


End file.
